


Multi-Purpose Accessory

by Elsewhere



Category: The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 03:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsewhere/pseuds/Elsewhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No plot. Just rimming, gagging and screwing in the toilets at the NME awards...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Multi-Purpose Accessory

"Don't you dare come," Julian said. Murmured, really, very, very quietly, but it carried through the thick air of the cubicle and _oh fuck_, Noel thought, _I wasn't going to until you told me not to_.

"No," he said, not entirely sure why. It didn't feel like the right response but it was all he could manage; he'd collapsed into monosyllabism the second Julian had thrown him against the cubicle door and wrenched his jeans down around his boots. He clawed against the plastic but there was nothing to get hold of except his jacket and that was fucking expensive and he'd be photographed in it later so he couldn't crease it. He felt crazy and used and filthy and fucking amazing but mostly crazy. He was used to having the bars of the headboard in a near-splintering grip, doing this, or clutching the pillow until the stabby little ends of the feathers went into his fingers. With nothing to hold on to, or twist or mutilate or bite, the anticipation was almost pain.

"Come _on_," he forced out, forehead slipping on the door in his condensing breath, "fucking hell, I'm missing Johnny Marr for this, make it worth my while, won't you?" but that only made Julian slow and then stop altogether.

"You gonna shut up?" he asked, mildly, "or am I gonna have to gag you?"

A thrill ran up Noel's spine like fingers. "Yeah, if you want me to last three seconds, by all means gag me."

He felt Julian stand. There wasn't nearly enough room in the little cubicle for two people.

"How about I gag you," Julian said, quietly and slowly as he unknotted the bandana from round Noel's head and tied it firmly a bit lower down, "and you _don't_ come in three seconds?"

Noel could taste his own sweat on the fabric, cigarette smoke and the faint scent of shampoo. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe steadily, keep himself under control. _I can't help it_, he tried to say, but the knot was tight and his lips were pulled back and he couldn't speak properly, just whine and make odd garbled noises he wasn't sure would even be words if he _hadn't_ been gagged.

"You can," Julian said, simply. "You better."

He settled back on the toilet, hands on Noel's arse, and spread him wide, then... nothing. Noel could feel his breath. The lights overhead were blinding and harsh. He felt disgusting, Julian's breath and eyes and hands on him like this. Nowhere to hide, no way of looking like anything but a whore, tied and spread and whimpering - he felt Julian's tongue on him again then, _in_ him, hot and wet and squirming and insistent, the buzzing scratch of his stubble, and he was glad of the door because the sensations were making his knees buckle.

"I mean it," Julian said, replacing his tongue with two deft fingers, "I swear to god, if you come I'll-"

Noel came, keening and quaking, pulling at the folds of his jacket so hard the loop in the collar snapped and it fell off the peg right onto his head. He shook it off, annoyed with himself but not too distracted to let it land in the mess he'd made. Julian was laughing quietly. Noel looked back at him over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.

He said, "You'll what?" around the gag, and somehow Julian understood.

"I don't know. Turn round, put your hands back on the door. I'll still fuck you."

"Please."

He did as he was told and turned back round, palms splayed on the door. He heard the metallic rustle of a condom wrapper, then felt Julian lean forward and loosen the gag so it was draped around his neck, felt fingers pushing at his chin.

"Spit, please."

Noel spat into Julian's hand and closed his eyes, listening to the gentle wet sound of fingers on latex. The fingers returned, demanding.

"More spit." He spat again. "More."

"I haven't _got_ any more fucking spit. Would you just do it so I can get a drink?"

"I like you best when you can't talk, I think." Noel started to protest the sharp tug on his hair, Julian dragging his head back, until the bandana settled back in place and he couldn't say anything - and that was okay, too, he thought, pressing back with a whimpering moan as Julian slid his cock deeper.


End file.
